After that we saw a couple of the enemy go over to the hotel. I expect they were rummaging around for something to use to cut our wire. They must have searched good, for we didn’t see them come back for two hours, and one of them had an ax in his hand.
“Much good that’ll do ’em,” says I. “They can’t reach with an ax.”
“Shucks!” says Mark. “They can p-p-put a longer handle on it, can’t they?”
Which is just what they did. It took quite a while to cut it and get it ready, so that it was after eleven o’clock when they started operations. Then a man came out with the ax on a long handle and commenced chopping at the wire. There was only a crack a couple of inches wide that we could shoot through, and I guess we didn’t bother him much. Anyhow, he stayed there and swung his ax on our wires. They were good and tough, but at last he had one cut through. That was the first part of the end of things right there. In half an hour the last wire parted and down went the stairs. The way was open—open except for us fellows with our lances and slingshots at the top.
The Man didn’t take any chances, though. The first thing he brought up his movable fort, and, sheltered behind it, they began the attack.
“The two-by-four,” says Mark. “Be ready.”
Four of us grabbed it up and stood holding it till Mark said the word.
“Now!” says he, and we aimed the scantling right at the middle of the fort and whanged it with all our might. I’ll bet it jarred them good and plenty. Anyhow, they stopped and Mark ran down a couple of steps to pick up the scantling and fix it with one end against their shelter and the other end against a step. They were stopped. They heaved and pushed and strained, but it wasn’t any good. They couldn’t reach over the top of their fort because they’d built a roof there for their own protection, and there they were. They could push all they wanted to. The more they pushed the more tired they’d get and the more fun we’d have.
At last they tried lifting their contraption from the bottom and grabbing our brace, but that wasn’t any good. We held it just out of reach and peppered every arm that stuck out. Fifteen minutes of that and they saw they were outgeneraled, so they retreated, shelter and all. They had gained a point—the stairs were down; but we had gained a bigger point—we had beaten them off even when they came at us with their patent engine of war. We were pretty tickled, I can tell you.
But The Man wasn’t beaten. In twenty minutes he was back again with his fort to make another try. The fort looked just like it looked before, but we soon found out it was different—a whole heap different. We jabbed it with the scantling again, but this time what do you calculate happened! Why, they just dropped off a six-inch board about the middle, backed away an inch or so, grabbed the end of our scantling, and pulled the end through the hole where the board had been. Then they came right on up. It looked like some new kind of spider climbing his thread, for as they came on the scantling went right inside and disappeared like the fort swallowed it.